


Oh, My Darling, Time Hates Us The Most

by thecoloursinthegravel



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Poetry, the second chapter is a poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-04 18:08:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10996188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecoloursinthegravel/pseuds/thecoloursinthegravel
Summary: One day I will wake up and not want to throw up from the dizzy feeling that swirls in my head when I think about you.I think our love story is the saddest one of all.





	1. Chapter 1

There’s just this pain in my chest whenever someone mentions your name.

My whole body aches at the sound of that single syllable.

_Luke_.

You hold so much power over me.

My days are filled with coughed up memories and fist-coming-towards-face feelings.

My soul feels only as old as the day I met you.

I like to think, one day, I’ll find a map lying open on the edge of the road.

I like to think that map will take me to you. Wherever you are.

I like to think our eyes will meet across the room again.

And we won’t be able to look away. Not for a second. Not even as fire engulfs the building around us.

Not even as the tumour in your brain blurs your vision again.

One day I will wake up and not want to throw up from the dizzy feeling that swirls in my head when I think about you.

I think our love story is the saddest one of all.

It feels like your life was a book and someone ripped out most of the pages.

A selfish act of meaningless violence.

Big bad bully tearing up the paper just for the fun of it.

Your book is the only one I ever want to read.

I keep forgetting I’ll never know how it was supposed to finish.

Not like this.

No one was made to end like this.

Your book had so much potential. It was a masterpiece.

And I’m so glad you let me play a part in it.

I hold my breath at night sometimes just to imagine what it’s like to stop breathing altogether.

My face turns red and my chest burns and I almost laugh at how ridiculous I’m being.

I always tried to get closer to you in the most stupid of ways.

I remember pretending to like tuna for a whole year just because you offhandedly mentioned you liked it.

You were almost crying with laughter when you found out.

The blush on my cheeks just made you grab my shoulders and exclaim, “I love you, Ashton Irwin.” with the cheesiest grin on your face.

So I guess my plan worked after all, huh?

I hate seeing the empty chairs at the table when I sit down to eat.

Makes me feel like I’m at dinner with a table full of ghosts.

Not having to share the space in our bed makes me hate stretching out.

You used to shove my useless limbs off your side time and time again.

Often followed by a disgruntled huff or a playful slap.

Luke, you should really come back now.

Because I’ve learnt to only use my side of the bed.

I promise.

I can’t cross that invisible line that parts your side from mine if I wanted to.

I’d give you all the space in the world.

I’d give you everything in the whole world, darling.

I just need you to come home.

I know you’re probably looking down at me with a sad smile and I know I’m being ridiculous but _Luke_.

I’ve ran out of reasons to get out of bed in the morning.

I don’t think even the fist-coming-towards-face feelings could make me flinch now.

I am so cold without you.

This house doesn’t feel like a home anymore.

I’ll keep to my side of the bed, Luke, I promise you.

I just need you to be laying on yours.

 

 

 

           


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A poem based off the first chapter.  
> This is essentially a snapshot of a moment between Ashton and Luke before his death; I hope this comes across.  
> Thank you for reading!

We will be wrapped around each other, limbs intertwined and foreheads almost touching.

Your breathing will be so shallow.

My heart will feel so cold.

I will lace my fingers through yours, and your lips will turn up in a weak smile.

There will be nothing outside the two of us.

Now, or forever.

Your heartbeat will be a barely-there murmur.

My face will have aged a decade in two minutes.

I will use these old eyes to take in every inch of your face.

I will use my fingertips to touch the skin on your arm like it’s the first time.

You will lean in and kiss me like it’s the last.

Then, when the clock on the wall chimes midnight, I will pull back, move the hair from your face, and whisper, “Oh, my darling, I think time may hate us the most.”

 

 

 

             


End file.
